


Unsteady

by alcaline (aliixce)



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, suicidal thought, triggering situation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 05:55:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5816731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliixce/pseuds/alcaline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I was kinda anxious about posting this. It doesn't make a lot of sense, and I hope its wasn't too triggering or unrealistic, i just wanted to play with words while listening to sad songs and crying about the wasted potential that is Mickey Milkovich</p>
    </blockquote>





	Unsteady

**Author's Note:**

> I was kinda anxious about posting this. It doesn't make a lot of sense, and I hope its wasn't too triggering or unrealistic, i just wanted to play with words while listening to sad songs and crying about the wasted potential that is Mickey Milkovich

You're walking down the streets, hands tucked in your pockets. The wind is blowing, cold and merciless, making shivers running down your spine . 

 

You have nowhere specific to be, your shift ended half an hour ago and you don't want to go home right now

 

So you wander in the city, watching cars go by, people talking on their phones, clouds passing by. It's all too noisy and too quiet at the same time, wind and car noises filling your ears.

 

He's standing above the river.

 

Well not exactly above the river, but he's got this dramatic, almost poetic position in his body. It feels like he has already fallen.  
He's almost invisible to everyone, because except you, there's no one.  
The cars are going too fast for your little life, and you know that from the driver's seat you're looking like a grey blur on the side of the bridge.

 

It's getting cold out, and you're the only moron still walking.  
And now he's here and it's almost like you're both meant to be.

 

His breath is raggedy and there's this heaviness on his body, that shows that it's too much, there's too much.

 

You approach him slowly, like he's a wild animal that you don't want to scare, a thing that's hard to catch, even harder to keep.

 

He doesn't hear you coming, or he doesn't care maybe, because he stays focused on the dawning sun. His breath is trembling, his hands are fidgety, his fingers never seem to stop drumming against his jeans.

 

There's nothing you can do right know, and you know it by experience, so you still take a shot, hoping that maybe, maybe it's not too late for him.

 

"Hi."

 

You're now only a few inches away from him and you could just stretch your arm and reach him and that reminds you that's he's still on the other side of the fence  
you have to make him come back.

 

He doesn't answer, nor look at you, but you know for sure he heard, judging by the way his back tensed.

 

You don't know what to say now, it all seems too much, brings you back to places you buried under a rug long ago.

 

But you stay here and fight with him, because there's no reason why he should be alone, go through this alone. 

 

"Can you hold me? "

 

Your voice is insecure and you struggle with each word because in these situations, there's nothing perfect to say.  
There's nothing to say because in these moments you just want to hear nothing, feel nothing.  
Now you can feel it with him, the call from the void that never left you after all these years. It's still nagging, that feeling where everything is worthless and when dying seems like the more reasonable option.

 

He doesn't react but you see his chest calming down, each breath more and more steady. It's you who spoke, it's you who asked, because it's getting harder and harder to know which one needs saving.

 

You reach out to him and surprisingly he takes it. Now his left hand is still gripping firmly the fence and you are on the other side, holding his right one.

 

His grip is strong but shaky, and when he turns towards you, it's red rimmed blue eyes that stab you right in the heart.

 

You could cry right now, with him, because there's so much in these eyes that you can't handle, that he can't handle either.

 

So you just keep your gaze firmly on his, hands gripping tighter and tighter, saying with no words "I'm here, I'm here, please don't do that I'm here."  
And without realizing you must have whispered out loud because a look of surprise crosses his face, disappearing quicky under the weight of sadness and despair.

 

Minutes pass, because now the sun is almost out and public lights have been switched on.  
You're still holding hands and there's still no one out there, almost as if you were both in outer space, here but not really there, as if nothing was real, which was probably true. 

 

You haven't dared to say anything else, too scared to break the paper thin bond you tried to create.  
There's this fallen angel in front on you and you don't ever want to let him go.

 

Then, when the sunset is over, his body moves oh so slowly, fragile and insecure and he lets your hand go.  
And alone, without you helping, as a half dead soldier who refuses help even in front of death because that's how they were raised, thats what they are, he's turning and climbing the barrier.  
Almost two seconds later he's back on the sidewalk and you almost miss the realization.  
He's here.  
He's there with you.  
He hasn't jumped.

 

You almost didn't notice than he took back your hand and now you're face to face, drinking in his sight.

 

There's dried tears on his cheeks and you swipe your thumb across it to wipe them off.

 

And he breaks down, finally, lip trembling, knees weakening.  
You wrap your arms around him and brings both of you on the concrete to sit on the ice cold sidewalk.

 

He buries his face in your sweater and cries, cries and cries. Silently but still heartbreakingly.  
You're helpless and you just let your hand run through his hair in soothing motions.  
You just want him to be okay, you just want him to be okay.

 

You don't know if you'll ever know what happened this day that pushed him on the edge of jumping.  
You don't know why he trusted you.  
You don't know why suddenly you cared so much, as if his feelings were now yours.

 

But you know you held him through his own hell and now there's this beautiful boy in your arms and you'll be lulling him to sleep in you weren't in the streets.

 

There's a moment when your little bubble has to be broken and you're shaking him slightly, to show him that he needs to sleep somewhere else than on the frozen concrete of a run down bridge.

 

You help him stand up and now there's a little awkwardness in the air. He looks ashamed and you just want to tell him that its okay, its okay.

 

You whisper as quietly as possible, so you won't rush him. "Do you have somewhere you can go?"  
He nods and walks, you nod and you follow, magnetized.

 

There's his car parked a few streets away and without blinking you get in with him. You're already in deep anyway. He drives in silence and you can almost see his shield building up again, a normal man, nothing like what you've seen an hour ago on the empty bridge.

 

He drives almost to the limits of south side, near clean but still not wealthy buildings and invites you to his apartment. Without saying anything, both of you don't need to talk to understand each other.

 

You should say no, you should, maybe you should.  
But it's nothing worse than drunken one night stands in blurry places, with blurry people and numbed sensations so you enter anyway.

 

He silently takes off his coat and you look at the simple place, nice but impersonal, as if he tried to make himself as tiny as possible, as if he could leave at any moment and it would look like he was never there .  
You stay here frozen while he enters a room and gets out a few minutes later with a tanktop and a pair of sweatpants, face heavy with tiredness .  
He looks embarrassed, because the only thing he has to give you is an oversized tee.  
You shrug because you don't mind. You really, really don't mind.  
With a sign of his head he shows you the bedroom and you follow him instinctively, naturally.  
You take off you jeans and throw on his shirt, and his smell is intoxicating on your skin. It penetrates instantly inside you and it's like you're now impregnated.  
You climb into the bed with him and let him snuggle against you like an old married couple. There's no sexual tension in the air, just this feeling of being with someone that cares. And weirdly, it's something you haven't felt in a while.  
It's still a bit hazy but he's there right now.  
He hasn't jumped he hasn't jumped.

 

He's still shaking a bit and you wonder what kind of things this boy must have gone through.  
Too much, way too much.  
He's falling asleep in your arms now, his face washed from all worry, leaving his face calm, peaceful.

 

You sigh calmly, hands tangled in black locks of hair.

 

You'll figure everything out tomoroow..

 

And you let yourself falling asleep holding onto him as if your life depends on it because maybe, maybe your life depends on it.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading folks :) hope you enjoyed and leave a comment it'll make my day ! :)  
> ps: english isn't my mother tongue


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